I'm Sorry
by GlowingHazelEyes
Summary: Gerald passes away, leaving the Broflovski family in tatters. Stan is worried about Kyle and decides to take matters into his own hands. Rated T for dark themes and language. SLASH! No likey no readie! Pairings include Candy, Bunny, & Style. First South Park fanfic, so no flames please! Sorry if any characters are OOC. RE-UPLOADED! Glitch deleted it off the site. :-/
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first South Park fanfic! Warning: there is character death, disturbing themes, and slash (boy x boy) pairings. This fanfic was inspired by "I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry" by Miku Hatsune. I do not own South Park, nor am I making a profit from writing this. I merely love to write. I hope you enjoy! **

Stan sat at the dinner table with his family, poking at his food. He was in no mood to eat right now, as he was currently sick with worry.

"Dad?" Stan started, looking up from his plate. His father gazed back. Stan paused before continuing, "I'm concerned. Kyle hasn't been at school for a week now."

"Stan. You know his father died recently. Give the boy time to recover from his loss." Randy stood and dumped his dishes in the sink, then went to the living room to watch sports on the TV.

"But he hasn't called me either or come to see me..." Stan whispers quietly to his plate.

"Oh god Stan. You sound like a fag. Are you sure you aren't gay for your little turd friend?" Shelley laughs than leaves to her room. Stan says nothing in his defense, he's too stressed about his friend and he couldn't help but know that Shelley was closer to the truth than she thought. He did love Kyle more than a "Super Best Friend", though he wasn't about to admit that to anyone. He preferred to keep that off his mind, although it had become harder to of late.

"Don't worry hon, I'm sure he's fine. He's probably not in the mood to talk. You'll see him again soon enough." His mother pats his head then starts wrapping the leftover food. Stan rushes up to his room, locking the door behind him and flopping gracelessly onto his bed. He takes out his phone that he got for a birthday present when he was 13, and quickly texts Kyle, "How are you? Haven't seen you in a week, you want to come over?" This takes only a matter of seconds because Stan types fast and Kyle is in his phone's favorites, in fact, the only one in his favorites. Once the word _sent_ flashes across the screen he drops the phone next to him on the bed and sighs. Minutes pass, becoming hours, and no response comes. Stan swallows, feeling his throat constrict like it always does when he's about to cry.

_"Ugh, I'm acting like a wimp." _Stan thinks angrily and turns and lies on his stomach, flipping his alarm on and slowly drifting to sleep.

OoOoO

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BE- Stan's hand slaps his alarm and shuts it off. He's surprised he hasn't broken his alarm with how much force he uses on the poor thing. He rolls out of bed and goes through the usual routine of a Monday morning, though more sluggishly than usual. Stan knew it was because he wasn't likely to see Kyle at school today, and Kyle always made school at least tolerable. Trudging to his bus stop with his backpack smacking his shoulder and an empty nauseous stomach, Stan feels that familiar and annoying spark of hope ignite in his chest. Hope to see his super best friend. The spark quickly extinguishes when he doesn't see the green ushanka that sits almost constantly on Kyle's head. Shoulders slumped and head down, Stan leans against the stop sign as he waits for the bus. A recognizable voice called his name, though it wasn't the voice he wanted so desperately to hear.

"Stan!" Cartman pants as he waddles up to him. Cartman has actually lost weight over the years, but is still slightly chubby. His face holds his common smirk as he continues to speak, "Kahl isn't here again? Still sobbing like a pussy over his daddy's death?"

"Shut the hell up Cartman." Stan grumbles half-heartedly. Cartman simply laughs and turns to Kenny who just arrived. The bus rumbles to the stop moments later and everyone climbs aboard. Stan sits by himself across the aisle from Cartman and Kenny, wishing that the red-haired boy he usually always sat by was with him.

OoOoO

_"What a drag. Can't today just end? Please?" _Stan thinks as his teacher carries on about crap that no one cares about. Stan was right; Kyle hadn't come to school today. No one seemed to notice, or even care, which made Stan irritable and angry. The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Stan rushed out of the classroom, dumped his books in his locker, and went to the lunch room. Soon after he sat down at a table, he was joined by Cartman, Kenny, Wendy, and Butters. Cartman and Wendy had started dating about a year ago, as did Kenny and Butters. Stan and Wendy had decided that it wasn't working out, and broke up. (Much to Kyle's relief.) They still stayed friends though. Soon after she fell for the fatass (for the second time too) and they got together. Cartman loved to rub it in Stan's face, although Stan had really stopped caring. Kenny and Butters... that was a long story, filled with surprises, kisses, punches, and many, many awkward moments. But by now, everyone knew, and it wasn't a big deal anymore. Stan felt like a third wheel (or would it be fifth wheel?), especially since Kyle wasn't here. When the two couples formed, Kyle and Stan had been teased many a time; (by mostly Cartman and Kenny) the others saying that the two should get together and stop being single loners. Kyle just laughed and shook his head, Stan doing the same, but faking it. He secretly agreed with the others, but he never said a word.

"Hey! Answer my girlfriend when she talks to you!" Cartman growled at Stan, snapping him out of his reverie.

"What?" Stan blinked and looked at Wendy. Kenny snorted and tapped the side of Stan's head as if to tell him to pay more attention. Wendy just smiled kindly and repeated her question, "So Kyle still isn't at school? How's he doing? I haven't heard from him."

"_Finally someone actually seems to notice." _Stan thought angrily. He wanted to snap at her, saying that obviously he isn't at school and that of course she hadn't heard from him, Stan hadn't even heard from him and there was no way that Kyle would rather talk to Wendy than Stan. However, he kept calm and said, "No he isn't here. I don't know how he's doing though, I haven't heard from him either." Stan's voice cracked at the end, resulting in Kenny's smile from Stan's lack of attention earlier to be wiped off his face, and replaced with concern. Even Butters frowned at his tray of food and gripped Kenny's hand. Stan blushed in embarrassment and looked down at the table. Cartman smirked and opened his mouth, but he was quickly silenced by a look from Wendy.

"It's okay dude, he's still probably in shock. I don't think I'd been in a huge mood to talk if someone close to me died either." Kenny said quietly. Stan pondered that statement, thinking about how Kenny constantly died and came back, always leaving Butters in fits of tears.

"Yeah, I guess so dude." Stan twisted his fingers in his lap. There was an awkward silence that seemed to last forever. Conversation fired back up eventually, just small talk, Stan never contributing, just twisting his fingers and thinking of his friend.

Lunch ended and the group split apart. Stan stood at his locker, looking at the pictures on the side. There was a picture of Stan with his family, a picture of Stan and his football team, and a picture of him, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman. His personal favorite picture however, was a picture of him and Kyle at Stark's Pond, hugging each other and laughing in the falling snow. Feeling his throat constrict again, Stan swiftly slams his locker shut. As he turns to go to class, he just barely avoids running into Butters.

"Sorry Stan, I just need to talk to you." Butters blushed then looked at his hands in shame.

"What is it Butters?" Stan sighs, wishing people would just leave him alone.

"If you miss him so badly, maybe you should take initiative and go to his house to see him rather than waiting for him to come to you." Butters mumbles.

"...You mean Kyle?" Stan blinks. Butters simply nods then runs off. Stan stands there dumbfounded. He can't believe that he didn't think of that sooner, how stupid could he get? Mentally face palming, he runs to his next class, the hope sparking up inside him again, though less annoying than before. He was going to see Kyle today, as soon as he could. Stan smiled happily to himself and wished that the clock would move faster.


	2. Chapter 2

_ "OHMYGODIFTIMEDRAGSANYMOREI'MGOINGTODIE." _Stan pouted. Last class of the day. 15 minutes left of class. 30 minutes of riding the bus. 5 minutes to get to Kyle's house. 50 minutes until he could see his super best friend. Stan had never been more impatient.

"Mr. Marsh! Would you please kindly STOP tapping the desk and pay attention?!" His teacher, Mrs. Johnston announced loudly, throwing a glare at Stan.

"Sorry ma'am." Stan grumbled and sank lower in his chair. He hadn't even realized he was tapping. Sniggers sounded around the room. Stan could care less.

_"49 minutes. Just 49 minutes..."_

OoOoO

"You seem... oddly happy," Kenny said to Stan across the aisle on the bus. "Why?"

"Why what?" Cartman turned his head away from his phone to look at the two.

"I was asking Stan why he was happy." Kenny said.

"Oh. Nothing to care about here." Cartman snorted and got absorbed into his phone again. Kenny merely rolled his eyes and turned back to Stan. "So, are you going to answer my question?"

"No reason." Stan smiles.

"Okay dude, I know that's a lie. But whatever." Kenny rolls his eyes again and grins. The bus rumbled to a stop. Their stop. Stan uses all of his self-control to walk instead of sprint off the bus. After the bus drives away, Stan turned toward the direction of Kyle's house and ran. Before he did however, he turned to Kenny and said "Thank your boyfriend for me, okay dude? I wish I'd thought of his idea earlier." Kenny stood there for a moment, silent and confused, then shrugged and walked to his house.

Stan ran so fast that he cut the 5 minutes it usually takes to get to Kyle's house down to 3 minutes. He jumped up the porch steps and knocked loudly on the door. No response. He knocked a couple of times. Still no answer.

"Mrs. Broflovski? Kyle? Ike?" Stan yelled. Nothing. Determined, Stan didn't hesitate once as he whipped around to the back of the house, secured his back pack on his shoulders and climbed the huge Limber Pine that sat in the backyard, so he could reach Kyle's window. Stan had snuck over to Kyle's house so many times, and vice versa, that they both knew a perfect way to scale the tree to get in and out of the house. Stan didn't have one problem and reached Kyle's window in record time. He reached out his arm to rap his knuckles on the window, so Kyle could hear him and open up the pane of glass. Stan stopped as he realized that even if the window was open, he couldn't possibly get inside.

_"When the hell did the windows get iron bars? Those were never there before!" _Stan grunts with anger and surprise. He scrambles back down the tree and runs back to the front of the house. How the hell could he get inside? He stood there, thinking, before he remembered. Kyle had hidden a copy of a house key in a small crack in the porch. He had told Stan about it, (though he wasn't supposed to) but they had never had any reason to use it. Stan kneeled down, his fingers searching for the small crack on the porch's first step. His fingers catch on something silvery and shiny and he swiftly pulls it out. Sure enough, it was the key.

Stan stood brushing off some dirt and leaves, then unlocked the door. He walks into the house he's become so comfortable in. But not today. Today, something about the house seems... off. It's cold inside, and there is a suspicious lack of sound. The whole eerie feeling he gets forces Stan to stay quiet. He closes the door quietly behind him, and sneaks up to Kyle's room. Not even once along the way does he hear a noise. He slips inside Kyle's room without knocking, and shuts the door behind him, a small _click _signifying that the door was completely closed.

"Kyle? Kyle! Where are you?" Stan whispers. He gazes around the room but does not see the red-headed boy. He clambers over to the attached bathroom. The door is wide open. Stan knows that his friend is not inside, but decides to look anyway.

The first thing he notices is the green ushanka on the floor. Kyle almost never parts with that hat. Stan leans down to grab the ushanka, then notices red next to it. Upon closer inspection, he realized the red was blood. Stan's heart started to pound and twist uncontrollably. He mentally scolded himself. There was hardly any blood on the floor. Only enough to come from a couple scratches. He gripped that hat in his hand, standing back up. He then noticed that the shower curtain was half ripped off the little hinges that held it in place. He gazed into the shower, finding shampoo and soap, regular bath stuff, and... a diary? Stan picked up the journal. It was small, pocket-sized, and had a simple smooth sleek black cover. He opened up to the first page and read the writing that was in Kyle's neat, easy to read print.

_I don't know what I'm supposed to write in this. The grief counselor told my family (or what's left of it now, anyway) that to help us deal with our loss we should write out our feelings. How the fuck is that supposed to help? I don't know, but I'll write in here anyways. Maybe it will help. Somehow..._

Stan flipped the page. (A.N. every time there is a line break that means that Stan is reading off a different section.)

_It all happened so fast. He told me that he'd pick me up from the ice cream shop right after he does a quick run to the store across the street. Across the street! On his way back, that was when it happened. When that motherfucking drunk driver rammed into him and sent him sailing into a street light. He apparently smacked his head so hard on the wheel, that he had a concussion and lost consciousness. He died moments later. Just like that. The asshole that caused it all lived. He lived! Proof that the world is fucked up. I'm so sorry Dad. I hope you're happy, and in a better place now. I love you._

_Ike won't stop crying. I'm staying home from school to comfort him. I wish I could see Stan. I really want to talk to him, or at least have him by my side. I'm not allowed to leave the house though. Mom's orders. She also took my phone away. I have no idea why. She's been acting really weird lately. She put up metal bars on my window. She's being really mean to me. Maybe that's her way of coping, I don't know. But I sure as hell don't like it._

_I walked in on my mom crying over a picture of dad. I went to give her a pat on the shoulder, a hug, anything to comfort her. But as soon as I got closer she stood and threw the frame that held the picture at my head and screamed "It's all your fault!" The frame smacked my head pretty hard, I'm pretty sure that it left a lump. What the hell?! What's my fault?! My father's death? But that's not my fault. Although he would have lived if he hadn't gone to pick me up..._

_Mom's getting really violent. Or maybe that's just me. She slapped me today when I asked if I could take a break from Ike to see Stan. She told me that I better go ease the pain that I'd inflicted on my brother. So it's true. She blames me for dad's death. I'm starting to actually think it is my fault..._

_I stole my phone back from Mom. I really need to talk to Stan. I miss him. Before I could text him though, Mom appeared and took the phone right out of my hands. She proceeded to lock Ike in his room, throw my phone in hers, and then came back to me. I was in the kitchen at the time. I'd never seen her so angry. She told me I didn't deserve to have any friends, especially Stan. She hit me again like earlier, just harder. The force knocked me to the ground. A painful kick to the stomach followed, and my lungs were completely emptied of air. She stomped on my left hand right then, with enough force to break three of my fingers. God it hurts, my hand is throbbing. She locked herself in her room afterward. I'm not coming out of my room again, not until she calms down. I've never seen her like this before, she's like a monster. Although I can't blame her. I'd hate my son too if he was the reason my spouse died._

_All my fault all my fault all my fault... I must be acting like a bad rebel child. I'm too scared to go out and face my punishment. I'm really just a pitiful, useless little being like she says aren't I?_

_All my fault... forgive me, please..._

_She's banging on my door again. I'm locked in my bathroom now, since she broke through my bedroom door. Hiding in the shower like a wimpy piece of shit. I'm shaking, my writing looks absolutely horrible. Is she going to kill me because of what happened to my father? I hope not. Although I deserve it. I just want to see Stan once more. I want to tell him that I love him. Really love him. I doubt I'll have the chance though. I just heard a crash, there goes the bathroom door, my last line of defense. Even though he'll probably never see this I'll write it anyways. Stan, I'm sorry that I won't see you again. I love you. Good bye._


	3. Chapter 3

Stan grasped the small diary in his hands. He couldn't believe what he just read. Kyle's mother was trying to kill him? Was he already dead? Stan didn't know how to react to the words scribbled in the tiny diary. He felt like the world was spinning in a tight circle and nothing could stop it. He felt the blood rush to his head and his heart pump uncontrollably. Stan stood, making himself dizzy, dropped the diary and ran out of Kyle's room. Gripping Kyle's hat in his hand, his mind raced. Where was Kyle…?

Stan had an idea and ran to Ike's room across the hall and twisted the doorknob. It didn't budge. Taking a step back, he kicked right under the doorknob, leaving a reasonably sized dent. Luckily the door was hollow and only took a few more hits before it completely collapsed. Stan ran in, eyes scanning every side of the room. He felt a small figure wrap its lengthy arms around his waist. _Ike._

"Ike! Ike, are you ok?" Stan wrapped his arms around the small boy with tear stained cheeks.

"I'm f-fine, but Kyle…" Ike coughed out a sob.

"Kyle! Where is he?! Where did she take him?!" Stan lightly shook him.

"Sh-she dragged him… downstairs, to the b-basement I think." Ike shivered, releasing Stan.

_The basement… _Stan turned and sprinted down the stairs, stopping at the basement door. He took a deep breath, running down there like a maniac was more likely to get him hurt than help anything. He heard soft footsteps behind him and turned around. Ike held out a crowbar to him.

"Better that than nothing right?" Ike shoved the crowbar in Stan's hands, taking away Kyle's hat first.

"Ike… this is your mom-"Stan started.

"No. Not anymore. Now she's a monster. I'm going to go call the police." Ike didn't sound scared anymore, his voice was full of hate as he spun around on his heel and ran to the telephone. His words revolved in Stan's mind as he opened the basement door and crept down the stairs.

It was dark, but light enough to see a few feet in front of him. Reaching the bottom step, he looked around. There was nothing but pipes, a furnace and boxes full of old, forgotten things. Stan shifted a box, finding a door that was hidden from sight before. A sliding one. As he slid the door open, the sight almost made him scream. It was Kyle; clothes tattered, covered in bruises and blood, hair strewn in his face. What scared Stan the most was the fact that it looked like Kyle wasn't even breathing.

Stan ran to Kyle, dropping the crowbar and forgetting any danger as he scooped the broken boy up in his arms. He immediately felt relief as he felt the boy breathing, although weakly.

"Stan?" Kyle's eyelids slid open, showing beautiful green orbs.

"Yeah Kyle, it's me. Don't worry, you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it. I promise." Stan kissed his forehead.

Kyle gasped quietly at the gesture, before smiling, "I love you Stan."

"I love you too Kyle." Stan felt the tears spill out of his eyes. His happiness was short however, as he heard a loud click, like when a gun's safety is shut off. His heart was quickly filled with dread as he felt the cold metal of the gun press to the back of his head.

"Adorable. Too bad you won't be able to keep your promise." A woman's voice whispered near Stan's ear. Stan reflexively flinched away, clenching Kyle to his chest and burying his face in the curly red hair. There was a loud bang, a scream, and the world went black.

**Hey there lovely readers, thank you for enjoying my story so far. Sorry for the short chapter. There will be one more chapter, along with an alternate ending. Sorry for not updating sooner, the last chappy and alternate ending should be on really soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Iron bars. Green hat. Almost indecipherable words scribbled on small pieces of paper. Smashed doors. Crowbar. Blood, blood everywhere. Gun click. Loud bang. Everything went black._

Stan's eyes slowly slid open, wincing in the bright florescent light. The harsh white took a while to get used to. Once his eyes adjusted, Stan realized something.

_I have no idea where the hell I am. _He sat up, stretching out stiff muscles. Gazing around the room, he noted what items were inside.

_Bed, IV, chairs, desk, sheet near the bed, two doors. Well, it's obviously a hospital._

"Stan! Oh my baby! You're awake!" Stan heard his mother's voice as she rushed into the room and sat on a chair next to Stan's bed. She took his hand in hers and gripped it tightly. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Randy walked in afterwards, sitting on the opposite side of his son and placing his hand on Stan's knee, saying nothing.

"What happened?" Stan's voice came out of his throat as a hoarse croak. It sounded as if he hadn't talked in days.

"You've been out for a couple days, after getting a hit to the head. D-do you remember what happened, when you visited Kyle honey?" Sharon stroked his Stan's hand comfortingly.

_When I visited Kyle? What?_ Then it all came back to him.

_"Stan?" _

_"Yeah Kyle, it's me. Don't worry, you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it. I promise." _

_"I love you Stan."_

_"I love you too Kyle."_

…

_"Adorable. Too bad you won't be able to keep your promise."_

"Kyle. Kyle. Is he ok? Where is he?!"Stan choked on air as the words rushed out of his mouth.

"Honey! Calm down, it's alright, he's ok. He's asleep in the room next to yours." Sharon lightly pushed Stan back into a laying position.

"No it's not ok! I need to see him!" Stan struggled back up only to be restrained by Randy.

"Baby, you still need to rest! Nurse! Some morphine please!" Sharon yelled out into the hallway. A pretty brunette nurse stepped in the room with a syringe, stood next to Stan's IV and added the clear liquid. Stan felt tired and fuzzy-headed within seconds, and the world went black for the second time.

When Stan awoke again, he noticed a lot less pain, although he was still tired. He could see a fingernail moon from the window to his left. The nurse from before was standing next to him.

"I shouldn't technically be doing this, but you're getting discharged tomorrow anyways. Do you want to see your friend?" She smiled kindly. Stan nodded immediately and stood, almost crumpling to the floor.

"Careful! You'll see him soon, no need to rush." She chuckled and grabbed his arm gently to help him balance. She led him out of his room and into the one next to his. Sleeping soundly on the bed was Kyle, covered in bandages but still looking beautiful in Stan's eyes. Stan let the nurse lead him over to the bed, where he sat down quietly next to the red-haired beauty and grasped his hand.

"Do you remember what happened?" The nurse stood about two feet from the bed.

"I remember going into the basement and finding him all broken and bloody," Stan's stomach twisted from the memory, "and I held him in my arms, then I heard his mom-… that woman's voice. Then a loud bang, and then darkness." Tears threatened to spill from his sapphire-colored eyes.

"That boy's little brother called the police. They got there pretty fast. By the time they got to the basement, that lady had her gun to your head. The only way to stop her from killing you was shooting her, so that's what they did. When they shot her, she knocked over a lamp. Hit your head and left a nasty bump for a while." The nurse trailed off. Stan said nothing, just leaned over and softly kissed Kyle's head. He then remembered that they weren't alone, and blushed as he looked at the nurse, expecting a disgusted face. However, he was pleasantly surprised with a genuinely happy smile from the brunette.

"I'll give you some alone time." She turned on her heel and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Stan mumbled a soft thank you before looking back at Kyle. He looked a lot better than he had when he was in his basement, although he was still cut up and bruised. Stan sat next to Kyle, stroking his red-hair and twisting it between his fingers. Green eyes opened as a hand reached up and pulled Stan's hands away from his hair and to his side, where their fingers intertwined.

"How are you feeling, dude?" Stan smiled at his super best friend.

"Alright." Kyle gripped Stan's hand. "I heard everything. I know what happened to her." Kyle continued.

Stan paused before talking, "Are you ok?"

"As long as you're by my side." The red-head shifted, making room in the bed for Stan.

"Of course I'll be by your side." Stan settled into the bed, scooting next to Kyle and draping his arm over his body. They both started to doze off, before Kyle grumbled something in Stan's ear.

"That was soooooo cheesy dude."

"I know."

"…I love you."

"I love you too. Now go to sleep."

"Don't… tell me… what to… do…" Kyle's voice trailed off sleepily. Stan simply chuckled, cuddling closer to him and falling asleep happier than he had ever been.

**There's the ending folks! Filled with fluff and cheesy, but I had to make a happy ending. X3 The next chapter is an alternate ending, and although the chappy starts out the same, it doesn't end the same. WARNING: The alternate ending is not a happy one! Read at your own risk! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Remember, reviews and suggestions make the author happy! Thank you all! :D**


	5. Alternate Ending

**Hey readers! Here's the alternate ending like I said there would be! Remember two things; this starts out the same as the original ending, and this is NOT a happy ending! D: Read at your own risk!**

_Iron bars. Green hat. Almost indecipherable words scribbled on small pieces of paper. Smashed doors. Crowbar. Blood, blood everywhere. Gun click. Loud bang. Everything went black._

Stan's eyes slowly slid open, wincing in the bright florescent light. The harsh white took a while to get used to. Once his eyes adjusted, Stan realized something.

_I have no idea where the hell I am. _He sat up, stretching out stiff muscles. Gazing around the room, he noted what items were inside.

_Bed, IV, chairs, desk, sheet near the bed, two doors. Well, it's obviously a hospital._

"Stan! Oh my baby! You're awake!" Stan heard his mother's voice as she rushed into the room and sat on a chair next to Stan's bed. She took his hand in hers and gripped it tightly. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Randy walked in afterwards, sitting on the opposite side of his son and placing his hand on Stan's knee, saying nothing.

"What happened?" Stan's voice came out of his throat as a hoarse croak. It sounded as if he hadn't talked in days.

"You've been out for a couple days, after getting a hit to the head. D-do you remember what happened, when you visited Kyle honey?" Sharon stroked his Stan's hand comfortingly.

_When I visited Kyle? What?_ Then it all came back to him.

_"Stan?" _

_"Yeah Kyle, it's me. Don't worry, you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it. I promise." _

_"I love you Stan."_

_"I love you too Kyle."_

…

_"Adorable. Too bad you won't be able to keep your promise."_

"Kyle. Kyle. Is he ok? Where is he?!"Stan choked on air as the words rushed out of his mouth. Randy had to hold him down as he struggled to get out of the bed.

"Oh honey, you should rest a little first…" Sharon's eyes shone with tears. Seeing this, Stan stopped moving.

"Mom," He said, his voice quivering, "Is Kyle ok?" Sharon simply stared at her feet, tears sliding down her cheeks. A pretty brunette nurse rushed in the room, head down, and a sad frown resting on her face. She stopped next to Stan's IV and added a clear liquid to it. Was that morphine?

"Wait… no. No! Tell me if he's ok! Tell… me…" Stan felt dizzy as the world went black again.

Stan awoke to the harsh white light as he had earlier. It was nighttime, that much was obvious with the moonlight pouring in through the window. He was alone, or he thought he was until a small figure walked next to his bed.

"Ike? What are you doing here?" Stan questioned.

"Did they tell you what happened?" Ike avoided Stan's question.

"No… no they didn't. Ike, what happened to Kyle? Is he ok? Is he alive?" Stan reached out to grab the boy's arm, waiting for any reassuring words. However, none came.

"The police came too late. After I called them, I rushed down to the basement after you. I saw you holding my brother, and _she _had that gun to the back of your head. She pulled the trigger, but Kyle pushed you away. You smacked your head on the floor and blacked out. Kyle…" Ike stopped, gazing like the floor, avoiding, like everyone else had, the most important and nagging question on Stan's mind.

"Did he survive?" Stan could barely voice the words, knowing that deep down, he knew the answer.

"…No. He might have saved you from the bullet, but he didn't have time to get dodge it. Nope, that nasty little bullet my monster of a mother shot ripped right through my brother's brain." Ike clenched his fists, holding back tears.

"I'm sorry." Ike whispered quickly, shoved Stan's hand away from his arm, and then ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Stan could hear the young boy's sobs as he dashed away from Stan's room.

_Kyle's dead?_ Stan couldn't bear to say the words aloud. He might have had a feeling that this was true earlier, but it still tore at his heart. He slumped back into his bed, knowing but never quite believing. The boy he had practically grown up with, the one always by his side no matter what, the one who forgave him for everything, the one that always convinced him that life wasn't all bad, was gone? Stan covered his face with his hands, finding out that his cheeks were wet. He didn't even realize he was crying. He didn't care though, all he could think about were the times he spent with Kyle, the boring days at school, the countless sleepovers, the visits to Stark's Pond, and he couldn't grasp that he wouldn't be able to create any more memories like those. They were part of the past, like Kyle was, and couldn't be part of his future. Before Stan had realized it, his silent tears had changed to heart-wrenching sobs, sobs the whole hospital could hear. But Stan didn't care about that at all, no, not one bit.

_He's really gone. And he's not coming back._


End file.
